


Beauty in Death

by xnavyblue



Category: Block B
Genre: Angst in way, F/M, I wrote this for a contest, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Romance?, but good trash, but like, honestly, it's trash, man idk what to tag this honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8464048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xnavyblue/pseuds/xnavyblue
Summary: Gia doesn't understand beauty, or at least Zico's version of it.All she knows is she loves him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to break her down and I guess I succeeded too well since I was curled up on my kitchen floor for a good hour in the middle of the night. I'm not sure it'll have that strong of an effect on you but hopefully you enjoy it nonetheless. 
> 
> P.S. I was having BTS I Need U feels for a moment while listening to the piano cover. Just a heads up?
> 
> P.P.S Also the character was supposed to be named Gina but I kept forgetting to type the 'n' so I just went with it. That probably gives you an idea of how I wrote this story... ;-;

"There is beauty in death and everything deserves to be beautiful," Zico chants this mantra in his mind like a prayer. His shoulders are bunched up, like usual. They don't relax like Gia hopes as she gently kneads her knuckles into his flesh. Dressed in a dark blue crewneck and black sweatpants, he looks almost like a normal college student, relaxing on the couch with his legs propped up on the coffee table and the tv on. However, that isn't possible. No matter how much time you spend wishing, you cannot take back a life that is dead, left in the past to rot along with everything that came with it. He's taught her this very well; it's a lesson with life as its test.

"Do you want to eat dinner?" Gia asks, although she already knows the answer. Her hands already leaving his shoulders, she freezes as he grabs her smaller hand, holding it in his warm, smooth one. He leans his head back on the couch. Dark brown eyes peer up at her, crinkling at the corners. "Sure, let's eat."

Although she was planning to cook, she finds her eyes following him dumbly as he bustles around the kitchen, cutting this and cleaning this. Though he doesn't seem to care for interior decorating and cooking, or taking her breath away, Zico's surprisingly good at it. The soft lights he picked out for the kitchen cast their golden glow upon him. His cheeks glow and his fluffy, slightly damp hair shines like a halo wrapped around his scarred mind. She doesn't know what to feel so she closes her mind and heart. Delicious smells waft from the pots he has on the stove and her chest feels tingly, despite her willing herself not to.

Instead, she wraps her arms around his waist, feeling his chest rumble as he hums. She knows this is just an illusion, a single drop of water she wants to hold onto but will slip away, so she just holds him. Holding him is like holding onto water itself and she doesn't understand why she can't let go. She can't swim but she wouldn't mind drowning in him.

This feeling isn't love, she knows that, but it's something just as strong because when he smiles at a joke or rumbles in agreement at a passing observation from her day, she feels lighter—accomplished.  
This feeling isn't love, she knows that, but as he hugs her and plants a soft kiss on her head while she's doing the dishes, Gia smiles knowing that she's the only one who ever gets to enjoy this. Time seems to slow and everything else fades away, leaving just them.

She begins to doubt what this feeling is, peering into her mug of coffee tiredly as if it would hold the answers to her questions. Instead, she sees the reflection of the stars above. Raising her head, she lets out a breath, somehow holding everything she's feeling and thinking but still being just a simple puff of air. There's not nearly as many stars as she imagined there would be. The ripples in her cup had tricked her but she doesn't mind.

A warmth settles on the balcony next to and she turns to look into two sparkling eyes. Even with shadows cast across his cheeks and slight dark circles hugging his eyes, they still curve as he smiles. This smile isn't real—none of his smiles are—but she'll have to content herself with it. She opens her mouth to say something although she doesn't really need to. The silence between them is comfortable and relaxing but it's broken anyways—by him.

"Nighttime is always so beautiful."

"How so?" Gia sips on her coffee, black, the way they both like it.

He glances out at the horizon, the water and sky that was once cutting across each other ablaze in colour. Now, they seem to be one and the same. "It signals the end of a day. Everyone is quiet and the world is at peace for once. Darkness takes over and there is no more."

She's quiet for a moment, considering his words once over. "There is beauty in death and everything deserves to be beautiful," she recites quietly. They're words he seems to live by but she can't quite understand them. She's not so sure what's so beautiful about silent darkness, filled with nothing and turning everything it touches into nothing. Maybe another time; in another life she may understand him. For now, she's still trying to understand this feeling in her chest that reaches the tips of her fingers and toes. What is this tingle that fills her mind as he presses his lips to hers? Why can't she forget the weight of his arms on her hips?

 

"Am I beautiful?" she asks, not wanting an answer in the way someone normally would. She's dressed in a two-piece lace and tulle dress, the colour of wine, picked out especially for today. It's the first time since they've gotten together three years ago that he's decided he wants to attend a party they've been invited to.

"The dress looks clean," he answers, too distracted and not evening willing to waste time lying to her. Sure, it's her sister's wedding reception; sure, she got dressed up just for him with freshly curled hair and glossy toes slipped into heels only to go unnoticed. However, death is beauty and everything deserves to be beautiful. That doesn't mean everything is beautiful. Only Areta, his baby sister who killed herself, could ever be beautiful.

A bubble of hopelessness expands in her chest but she quickly dismisses the feeling. She can't ever take away the pain but she can try to ease it. Brushing off dust that isn't there from his lapel, she gathers up the skirt of her dress and slips her arm through the crook of his arm. Though he tenses slightly, he turns his head to plant a kiss on her forehead. The warmth lingers all through the night.

Why do I care for him so much, she muses, couldn't I find someone who will love me? Images float to the forefront of her mind and she has a hard time trying to ignore them so she closes her eyes and leans her head on Zico's shoulder.

A hand, covered in hundreds of little scars clutches hers. Raised white lines crisscross each other. Car horns honk around them as the driver takes a right and Gia smiles softly into the fabric of Zico's jacket. She relives the warm fall day she spent with Areta, eating at McDonald's and reading to each other stories from Gia's overstuffed bookshelves. They sing softly along to songs playing from her old iPod and she traces over the marks as polish dries on Morana's fingers.  
The young raven-haired girl always had eyes filled with sadness. Her lips seemed to rest in a slight frown but now, the weight that seemed to glue her eyes to the floor constantly was lifted. Now, the corners of her eyes crinkled happily and her lips pull back to reveal her teeth in a glittering smile. That smile would fade away just a bit but remain on her face as they pull her limp body out of the overflowing tub.

The smile on Areta's face would fade away but as she opens her eyes, listening to the driver announce their arrival, she can see the smile, Areta's smile, that she and Zico loved already set on his face for the public to see. She hates it. She hates the way he can so easily draw people in but shut her out. But there's no end in sight to this torture so she learns to love it. 

 

The dining hall is enormous. A giant domed ceiling made of glass allows the moonlight to stream in and add a sparkle to the gurgling fountain by the entrance. Covered candles in gold fixtures line the wall and cast their coloured light onto the room. People walk around, eat, drink, or congratulate the newly weds. Most if not all stop to talk to Zico. He's so mesmerizing, even from across the room where she's listening to the band play live.

"Gia, how are you?" her brother-in-law, Francis, asks, settling down in the seat next to her. He's a handsome man, with cleanly styled brown hair and a friendly face. However, her sister's stories of his days spent playing video games or rambling happily about books brings forth a genuine smile to Gia's face.

"I'm doing fairly well, it's been a while since I've seen Aliya so it's nice to know she's being taken care of."

"Of course, she's the love of my life." He chuckles, glancing over at Gia's sister. "I was so sure I would die lonely and sad, until I met her. I was determined to show her how happy she makes me." He gets up and leads the way to the stage. Asking her months in advance to prepare a few songs for the reception, now was the time to put this plan into action. Gia grins at the calm facade he has fixed on even though buckets of sweat pour down his face.

"You know, after all those months of practicing, I bet you could sing solo!" she teases, pretending to walk back off the stage. The musicians behind them chortle quietly, understanding exactly what she meant. He had always planned to sing a solo but after hearing himself on a mic for the first time, he decided duets from two people who loved her would be a more fitting present to Aliya.

"Ahem..." he croaks, tapping the mike, shooting her a mock glare. Gia scans the crowd as the song is introduced and a speech is poured out. Tears are barely being held back by her sister. She feels herself getting choked up as well but it isn't life-threatening until she locks gazes with Zico, something swirling in his eyes and his warm smile still pinned on his face. Except, this time it doesn't seem so painful to hold it there. Hopefully. If only for tonight, he could smile without any hesitation and watch her lovingly, she would be able to die happily. 

 

It's easier than he had thought, to smile. Crossing his arms, Zico settles back into his seat with a glass of wine in his hand. There's something time-stopping about the way Gia sings, he realizes. Her lips curl just the slightest bit and the dimple in her left cheek from her occasional smiles casts a spell over him. The royal blue wallpaper fades away until only bare walls remain; stairs of velvet and floors of oak melt into pools that drain away, like a river drying up. Stars no longer twinkle and everyone around him is turned to shadow as he watches Gia, singing her heart out to the sound of piano and violins.

He closes his eyes. There's something soothing about her voice, telling tales about love and hardship; spinning scenes of defiance and redemption. It's the same voice he would hear through the thin walls of his parent's old house. With Areta as her accompaniment, Gia could will his heart to do strange things.

His beautiful, innocent Areta who had had the world turn against her...She was a gorgeous girl but never seemed to realize it. The world, painted red, roared and thrashed and crumbled, trapping her underneath it's blood-soaked boulders. However, she did not succumb—would not let herself merely become another shade of red to splatter across walls. Even if no breath passed her lips, she was still beautiful. She said so, her final message to this world a question, never receiving an answer but not needing one either;

_Am I beautiful now? I am. More beautiful than your wretched sunrises._  
_A fireball, I am, compared to your girls with hair the colour of spilled ink._  
_My hands will move this world and crush it, my beauty the last thing people_  
_of the globe will see before they become beautiful too. They will never even_  
_touch my feet but I will let them join me in my kingdom._  
_There is beauty in death and everything deserves to be beautiful._

Written on a crumpled sheet of paper, the lyrics to the song she wasted her last breath singing still rings clear in his mind. Each echo shows him the truth to what she was trying to show him. _There's beauty in death, and everything deserves to be beautiful._

As he opens his eyes, diving once again into the grey of Gia's endless gaze, he feels a tug at his heart. There's a painful squeezing in his chest. She's so beautiful, he thinks fearfully. But I don't want to lose her. He chants this mantra in his mind like a prayer.

He's silent and thoughtful throughout the rest of the night. Zico's mind swirls confusedly with echoes all through the taxi ride home, Gia dozing off on his shoulder, mumbling bits and pieces from her performance. There's not a moment of quiet no matter what; whether it be car horns or screeching ladies and bumbling fools. However, as he carefully hangs up Gia's dress and slips one of his t-shirts over her head, he can think clearly again.

The moonlight falls like a halo upon her hair, gently dancing along her nosebridge and dashing across her chin. With the windows cracked open, the smell of an oncoming storm lulls him to sleep. The only thought that echoes, louder than the roaring of his heart, is of how he would like to keep Gia, to love her. He climbs into bed next to her and holds her tightly against his chest, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

Is there a chance, of finally being able to keep something beautiful in his life, alive? It's a question, not for him but for Areta, for his lost sister somewhere among the stars, to answer. In his heart, he knows the answer but wishes it were different; he desperately wishes to be able to change reality but it seems it will always be impossible for him.

 

Waking up is painful, surrounded by the scent and warmth of someone so close yet so far away. It's late in the afternoon, she concludes, after checking the alarm clock. She sighs as Zico's arms tighten around her. Practice is the only answer Gia has for the mystery of how Zico can be so loving. If not for the fact that Areta had confirmed Zico's singularity for his entire existence, Gia would be wondering which lucky girl had actually been loved by him. She guesses all that love had run out.

Slipping out of his tight hug, she rummages around for some pants and a hairtie. The bathroom is filled with steam when she steps out of the shower and wipes down the mirror before wetting her toothbrush. Her reflection in the mirror is one she would have been proud of a year ago; full lips, smooth skin, and high cheekbones. She tries so hard to practice humility and selflessness but Zico's views on beauty and life itself have been hard to cope with. Not anymore.

"G'morning," Zico mumbles, hugging her from behind and planting a kiss on her shoulder. He steps into the shower and slings his clothes onto the towel hooks. The water hisses to life and the steam slowly regathers in the bathroom. Her reflection is slowly covered up by condensation and she grabs a facetowel to wipe away water from her chin.

"Zico?" she calls out, leaning against the counter. An answering hum spurs her to continue.

"Why...is death so beautiful? Can you help me understand?" Though she knows what she must do, she wonders if there's something else to this feeling, this love. It is love. She knows it now, the feeling that could drive her to the ends of the world for him. He shuts off the water and an arm snakes out to grab a towel. She breathes out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Zico steps out. Running a hand through his dripping hair, he presses yet another kiss to her forehead before wrapping a towel around his neck.

"I think you'll understand, soon, when it's time," he mumbles. At that, he slips back into their shared bedroom and changes, getting ready for work as a barista downtown. For Gia, Sunday is a day of volunteering and discovering new restaurants. She doesn't tell Zico, however, as he bids her farewell that she's already finished her volunteering, donating her saved money to the organization and leaving plenty for Zico.

"You'll never have to worry again, I'll make sure of that. It's the least I could do for you," she murmurs, a serene calm settling over her. All her life, she has never been able to do anything for the people that have changed her life. Taking, taking, taking. It's all she's good at but she'll finally be able to give back, for once in her life.

"It will be the only time in my life...maybe I could do a little more." And so, the clock no longer counts down for her but instead, it is completely shut off. Time is in her hands now, hands that will repay all they've been dealt. She makes calls, donations, visits, and anything else she can think of doing. It's a hard, maybe fruitless effort on her part but at least the outputs of her hopes will be permanent, but small part in a bigger picture.

By the end of the day, she's covered in dog fur and smells like spinach. Gia can't help but hesitate, her steps into the bedroom not as lively as they had been walking dogs in the park hours ago. Plugging her dead phone into it's charger, she glances up at the clock that reads 6:15, meaning there was half an hour until Zico comes home, unless the traffic isn't as bad this time. Gia considers maybe another day, when he wouldn't be walking in right after but she's decided; today is the day.

Passing by her dresser, she stops at the picture of Areta and her, kissing the tips of her index and middle fingers before pressing it to the picture. Continuing past, she opens up Zico's dresser and pulls out her favorite sweatshirt, a dark grey cotton piece, and slips out of her clothes, pulling his shirt over her head. It smells faintly of cinnamon, from last week when she accidentally used a whole bottle of cinnamon handsoap instead of detergent.

"Remember the 'me', as who I used to be," she sings softly, the song from an anime Zico showed her once. Having fallen for the story and taking on the protagonist's pain as her own, she feels his lyrics echo deeper in her soul, bones, heart, and mind than anything else.

"As who I still should be..." Staring at herself in the mirror, she blinks once. Twice. Everything slows down around her but it speeds up as well. Her legs tremble. She turns on the shower.

_Will he love me?_

Soap drips into her eyes as she scrubs viciously at her scalp, droplets of blood coming away in her hand.

_I can be beautiful, right Areta?_

Switching off the shower setting, the water gushes out of the faucet like normal, the sound of rushing droplets filling the empty space around, inside of her, and the empty space that is her. The rhythm to the song comes back to her. It builds up, repeated roughly by her foot tapping on the side of the tub. Reaching forward, she sloshes water into her eyes as she reaches for the bathtub plug, wedging it into the drain.

There. She sits back and leans her head against the ledge of the tub. A heavy thumping fills her ears, the sound of her heart racing and blood rushing to her head. Blinking, she suddenly notices Areta standing there, a small smile spread across her face. One of Gia's wrinkled hands reaches out, reaching for Areta's much paler one that's extended to her. Instead, Areta's outstretched palm is retracted and she crosses her arms, waiting.

Nodding, Gia gives a small smile, the movement shaking her body and sending water spilling over the edge of the tub. Beauty, pain, love. These are all but games. She will stand triumphant over all of them. She will finally be beautiful. Slowly sliding down, she squeezes her eyes shut as water fills her lungs, devouring her from the inside out.

Light. Stars. Darkness. Brown eyes.

Fire erupts inside of her and she knows it's finally time. Her arms go limp and she knows she couldn't save herself even if she wanted to. All thoughts float out of her head, just like the air as it escapes her mouth in bubbles, leaving room for more water to rush in. Everything stings but the cold of the water numbs it, saving her.

She feels everything melt away from her and the cold increases tenfold, prickling at the hair on her arms. This is it, true beauty. The one thing he gave to her that she could never repay. 

_Zico, I love you._

 

 The one thing the cold couldn't numb is tears hitting her cheek before the world goes dark.

 

"I love you too..."


End file.
